


Of Toy Frogs And Healing Songs

by IdiotCrusader



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU - Sigma in Overwatch, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Recall, Touch-Starved, healing music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-22 20:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19990606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdiotCrusader/pseuds/IdiotCrusader
Summary: Overwatch manages to secure Sigma and bring him to Gibraltar. His recovery is a work in progress, but Lucio is determined to help in any ways he can.





	Of Toy Frogs And Healing Songs

**Author's Note:**

> SIGMA IS PRECIOUS AND MUST BE PROTECTED  
> And Lucio is just a smol healing frog, he wants to do good. 
> 
> Working on the assumption Lucio's music does indeed have a healing effect.

Lucio sighs, fiddling with his fancy headphones as he’s waiting for Doctor Ziegler to unlock the ward. Soldier 76, cranky as ever, lingers beside them. He’s brought his pulse rifle with him, which, in Lucio’s humble opinion, just adds to the overall unhappy vibes of the situation.  
  
It’s been a week since they’ve rescued… captured… _brought_ Sigma to Gibraltar, and so far they’ve made zero progress in getting him to cooperate. Or interact with them in any meaningful way. Or, to be completely truthful, to do _anything_ other than sit curled up in the corner and make sharp objects levitate during occasional temper tantrums over not wanting to be touched.  
  
Soldier still has a few stitches from that particular incident, and it does nothing to help his resentment towards their new charge. Lucio doesn’t know the guy very well, but from the time they’ve spent together in the recalled Overwatch headquarters, he’s managed to gather that he is naturally distrustful and cautious. Probably has something to do with Soldier being, you know. A soldier. Still, his insistence on bringing a gun to a room that contained a mentally unstable patient clearly doesn’t sit well with Doctor Ziegler.  
  
Lucio doesn’t like it, either, but try talking an old stubborn soldier out of guarding them during the ward visits…  
  
“We are doing something special today.” Doctor Ziegler doesn’t even sound hopeful. Just concerned and perpetually tired.  
  
Soldier 76 makes a vaguely questioning noise.  
  
“Lucio will try using some of his sonic technology on our guest. Hopefully, that would put him into a more agreeable state of mind…” Angela shakes her head, then rubs on her nose bridge. “No matter what I do, the second I bring down the dose of sedatives, he’s back to the… you’ve seen it. If this doesn’t work, we will be at the point where I’d be ready to accept Zenyatta’s practices, because we’d be out of options otherwise.”  
  
There’s a loaded silence. Soldier just keeps glancing at her expectantly till she throws her hands up in the air and admits with a bristle, exhausted edge to her normally soft voice:  
  
“I just… I don’t know _why_! _Talon_ certainly managed to keep him in a much saner state.”  
  
“Moira and her sick tricks, probably,” Soldier grumbles. He doesn’t hold Moira to very high regard. “Let’s pray that it does work, then. I’m all for helping those who need it _and_ ruining Talon’s plans, but we need a way to at very least talk to him. A prisoner is already a liability, and as is, that Sigma guy is a bloody safety hazard.”  
  
“He’s a patient, not a prisoner.” The way Angela’s lips press into a thin line betrays the (obvious) fact that’s not the first time they’ve had this conversation, and it won’t be the last.  
  
Meanwhile, they get through the door. Thank god! Lucio can’t stand listening to them argue. They’re both sort of right, and it’s the absolute worst thing about it. Sigma doesn’t appear to pose a threat now, but they’ve all seen what havoc his powers can wreck. That’s been under Talon control, through. Since he got to Overwatch, Sigma remains almost entirely passive, lost deep in his mind, which seems like a _very_ dark place to Lucio.  
  
Whether he thought of himself as a prisoner is unclear, too. Winston modified the ward to contain his gravity powers, so the damage wouldn’t extend beyond this room and breaking out would be tricky, but it turned out kinda unnecessary. Sigma never tries to escape: most of the time when he’s awake he’s just… apathetic. That, or deeply delusional. Lucio feels chills shooting down his spine just remembering that one time he’s been present for one of his delirium fits. The pitiful whimpers of ‘what is _that melody_?!’ over and over still ring in his ears every time he closes his eyes.  
  
Must be rough. Yeah. He sure hopes today ends up with a success.  
  
They get through the heavily armoured door into the ward. Doctor Ziegler always laments that patients like that aren’t meant to be left alone at all, but they’re severely understaffed. Gibraltar is not a hospital. It’s not a prison, either. Lucio gets why Angela so desperately refuses to see her medical bay as one.  
  
In that patient-talking, overly sweet voice of hers, Angela greets:  
  
“Good morning, Sigma.”  
  
He has a name, but he doesn’t seem to realise it’s his most of the time, so they have to settle for ‘Sigma’. Not that calling him that ever gets a comprehensive response, either.  
  
Lucio glimpses in the direction of the hospital bed but finds nobody on it. The covers are crumpled and messy, and the man they came to see is huddled on the floor between the bed and the wall, knees pulled up to his chest, an absent look in his eyes. His large body is bent and twisted at most uncomfortable angles to cram into the corner he’s chosen; a blanket is wrapped around his middle, bare feet tucked under the loose end of fleece fabric.  
  
Well… Lucio doesn’t know what else he expected, to be honest.  
  
“Should we sedate him first?” Angela wonders aloud, eyeing him with genuine concern. “I want to perform a few simple tests, but he seems really averse to my instruments…”  
  
She’s a good doctor, she cares about ones entrusted to her, even a little (or an awful lot) too much sometimes, and that’s what Lucio likes about her. Talking about someone like they’re not in the room may seem tactless, but Lucio writes it off as a typical doctor habit. Angela never struck him as anything other than kind; Lucio’s happy to assist her, and Sigma is lucky to have ended up in her care. 

Even if they weren't able to help much so far. 

“A good idea. Just in case he doesn’t like the music and starts throwing stuff at us,” Soldier 76 is far less delicate, yet Lucio cannot bring himself to be annoyed at him. He’s doing what he thinks is best, after all. It’s not like Sigma can find any of it offensive: he’s far too out of it to even acknowledge his words.  
  
The only thing that got a real (and pretty explosive, too!) reaction out of him so far was an attempt to treat to his wounds sustained from the so-called extraction mission while he was unsedated. That’s where the flying scalpels came in. Doctor Ziegler is right: Sigma doesn’t appreciate medical assistance, probably because he doesn’t _know_ they are trying to help.  
  
“The music might not work right if you overdo the meds,” Lucio chimes in. “We just gotta give it a go! Trust me on this, nothing awful will happen.”  
  
As if _anything_ ever goes right on Gibraltar.  
  
At first, Sigma pays them no mind. Soldier 76 stands in the corner, trying and failing not to loom over; Doctor Ziegler checks the monitors and read-outs. Lucio takes out his player - it’s a small, portative model, unlike his usual battle-grade amplifiers - and flicks through the tunes. He’s got all sorts. There must be something that would do the trick.  
  
It seems like a decently quiet start, but as Lucio and Angela slowly move closer to set the music up, Sigma begins growing anxious. He still gives no indication that he’s aware that he’s got company, but the signs of unease are clear as day. Sigma fidgets in his corner, tugging at the blanket; his long slender fingers keep twitching as they grab the fabric and release it, and he keeps looking around, clearly unsure of where he is. He looks so far gone, so _broken_ , and for the first time, Lucio can’t help but wonder whether it’s beyond repair.  
  
Lucio fusses over his player with growing apprehension; he’s got a gut feeling that their plan might not be as failproof as he’s thought of it before.  
  
If this fails, they’d have Zenyatta, and then they’d be out of options. Lucio doesn’t want to know what measures Soldier 76 might insist on taking then. He’s got a point, in a sense: keeping someone so dangerous and unstable without precautions is straight-up asking for trouble. Still, locking Sigma up for good or keeping him sedated forever is… cruel, that’s what it is. A torture. That’d make them no better than Talon, and Lucio never signed up to be the bad guy. He has zero desire to mistreat anyone, dangerous or not.  
  
Especially when the rescue efforts _themselves_ might have put Sigma into an even worse place than before. He seemed saner out on Talon missions, didn’t he? Certainly less… withdrawn.  
  
“Okay. I think I’m ready,” Lucio calls out.  
  
“Don’t get too close,” Soldier warns him, not entirely unkindly. “Just in case.”  
  
Pointedly ignoring him, Lucio settles the player down on the floor and unplugs his headset to reroute the sound to the dynamics. He feels… quite doubtful, frankly. It’s hard to figure out if you should talk to someone who doesn’t even fully know you’re here. Lucio ends up settling for a quick mumbled greeting; Sigma doesn’t look at him, but the sound of Lucio’s voice makes him groan something unintelligible and turn his head away.  
  
Lucio wishes them all good luck and touches the play button.  
  
The music starts slow and pretty quiet, but the effect is instantaneous. For the shortest of moments Lucio almost mistakes it for a positive response - Sigma clearly takes notice of the sound, and it gets him out of his detached state; he almost looks like he _likes_ what he hears, but that flash is good is gone as instantly as it appears.  
  
It comes crashing down back to the bad _fast_. Sigma hardly recognises the source of the music, but his anxiety takes a step in intensity. The fidgeting grows more pronounced, he starts looking around uncertainly, clearly looking for where the melody is coming from. Lucio watches helplessly as tremors start wracking Sigma’ whole body, his breathing takes to an uneven hurried tempo, and his forehead starts glistening with the sheen of nervous sweat.  
  
Then the muttering starts. It’s too quiet to make the words out at first, but none of them needs to hear it to know what he’s saying.  
  
“I don’t think it’s working very well…” Angela gently touches Lucio’s back.  
  
No. It isn’t. Everything goes downhill quick, but his music isn’t making it worse: Sigma barely hears it anymore, Lucio realises. His own head is too damn _loud_.  
  
Out of blue, Sigma’s whole body convulses, and he lets out a blood-curdling yell:  
  
**_“WHAT IS THAT MELODY?!”_ **  
  
Sigma’s hands fly up to cover his ears but by now Lucio’s one hundred percent positive that it’s not his music he’s trying to block out. The healing beat slows down, but Sigma looks as if he’s getting shell-shocked by blazing sound. Lucio doesn’t even think his song triggered the delirium: it must have broken from the remaining sedatives and lethargy, and Sigma’s disturbed mind did the rest. Still, it’s awful. The scream dies into the pitiful, wretched whines, Sigma’s face scrunches like he’s this close to bursting into terrified tears, and Lucio doesn’t know what to _do_.  
  
Everything around them starts to tremble. The energy builds up inside the isolated ward with nowhere to go, and, in retrospect, coming here with just Soldier’s gun for protection wasn’t their safest idea, but right now, Lucio can’t care less. He needs to come up with something before someone gets hurt, he needs to get that horrible look of god-awful _pain_ off Sigma’s face, he needs to...  
  
Lead by a sudden idea he can’t even justify, Lucio grabs his headphones, slaps the player plug back in and, pushing Sigma’s hands away, pulls them on his head.  
  
For a second, everything goes still. 

Soldier 76 stands in place tensely, the barrel of his gun twitching, ready to fly up and take aim any moment. Doctor Ziegler freezes mid-step, her empty hands raised in a half-comforting, half-cautious gesture.

Then the tormented expression on Sigma’s face gradually melts into _relief_.  
  
It’s a special sight, no doubt. Lucio can’t tear his eyes away from the way his whole body slowly sags, as tension bleeds out, and when Sigma lifts his gaze up to look at them, it’s filled with puzzled confusion, but the haunted look is gone. Just as slowly, he lifts his hands again and tentatively touches the headset, pressing it closer to his ears. His eyes glaze over, and Lucio, Soldier 76 and Angela watch in stunned silence as his eyelids flatter and lower, leaving his eyes half-closed.  
  
It’s the closest to calm they’ve seen Sigma at all.  
  
Lucio grabs his player and checks the volume. It’s... loud, just under what would be uncomfortable. Marvelling at the look of perplexed concentration on Sigma’s face, Lucio feels pretty damn smart. His crazy theory must have been at least somewhat right: the music in his headphones drowned out the melody that kept playing in Sigma’s head. Probably. At least that’s what he thinks just happened. 

Hooray! An instant hit. 

The relief painted all over Sigma’s features is so great Lucio can’t shake off the heartache. It must be torture, hearing the same thing that horrifies you all over again, with no way to tune it out. Except for Lucio’s song, it turns out. Alright. Alright, that’s _something_.  
  
“Well…” Soldier 76 clears his throat. “A lucky guess, I see.”  
  
“It’s a healing beat, dude,” Lucio returns absent-mindedly. “It’s supposed to calm you down.”  
  
Not just that, obviously, but his music isn’t like the medical tech of Doctor Ziegler, Ana’s chemical stuff or even Zenyatta’s freaky powers… whatever they are. Sonic waves don’t really heal, not the physical wounds, at least. What they manage really damn well, no, honest, Lucio keeps being impressed by his own abilities, is to act on one’s mind. They can rally the troops, make you energised when you feel like you can’t go on, help you focus.  
  
Help you keep it together. Sooth the panic and hurt. Lucio’s absurdly happy that last bit worked: Sigma looked so miserable before, and he seems instantly less troubled now... Not that that’d be enough to cure whatever’s wrong with him, but Lucio’s all for taking small mercies and one step at a time victories.  
  
Ignoring Soldier’s disapproving huffs, Lucio kneels at Sigma’s side. Without his armour, the guy doesn’t look anywhere near as huge and threatening as the first time they saw him out in combat with Talon; he just looks tall and lanky and really, really worn out. Too thin for his size, too. Some of it is probably age, but Lucio still wonders if Talon just couldn’t be bothered to look after their own soldier, to even _feed_ him, properly, or is it the continuous bouts of anxiety and mental unease that burn through one’s body just as fast as they burn through one’s mind.  
  
Either way, thinking about it too hard makes Lucio sick to the stomach. Mad, too. It’s the same kind of mad that burns in his chest every time he thinks of Vishkar and what they did to his people back home.  
  
It takes another ‘ahem’ from Soldier to snap out of it and notice he’s being stared at. Sigma studies him with the expression of a scientist looking down a microscope; there’s no malice, no fear, just the contemplative curiosity. When their eyes meet, Sigma looks bewildered again. Maybe he really didn’t know Lucio was in the room before this moment at all.  
  
Damn, what a state to be in. Lucio really does feel sorry for him.  
  
Experimentally, he extends his hand, brushing Sigma’s shoulder with his fingertips. Sigma instantly recoils so hard his back hits the wall behind him with a thud, his fingers desperately clutch down on the headset, and his face adopts an intense wary expression. Humming, Lucio tries to make his own as friendly as possible and keeps reaching out.  
  
Sigma could, theoretically, end him there and then, Lucio has seen enough of his gravity powers to know he could probably snap Lucio’s neck if he only concentrated enough for it, but it’s not enough to make him back down. He refuses to think of their rescue as someone inherently evil. Talon used and abused him, so what? It isn’t his _fault_ ; Sigma’s not a monster. He’s just a human. A scared human with a fractured mind.  
  
Lonely, lost in pain.  
  
“It’s alright…” Lucio murmurs out loud. Sigma cannot hear him, not with the music still going in his headphones, but he’s watching Lucio speak so intently it makes him wonder if Sigma can read lips. “Not gonna hurt you, dude. It’s, uh... it’s okay.”  
  
Behind him, a gun is clicking, and Angela hisses something angry and urgent at Soldier 76. Lucky for them, Sigma pays them no mind, just like before. He doesn’t seem to be afraid of guns, Lucio notes, but Doctor Ziegler’s fancy medical equipment terrifies him.  
  
Reminds him of Talon and the years he’s spent locked away at the asylum, probably. Lucio wouldn’t blame him. Sounds like a hell of a few years. 

The music and the sweetest expression Lucio can pull off clearly work their magic. Lucio doesn’t get annihilated or anything of that sorts; in fact, he manages to touch Sigma eventually with no harm coming to either of them. Isn’t that great?  
  
Lucio lets his palm rest on Sigma’s shoulder for a few moments. He’s shivering. The shivers slowly die out as he registers there’s no pain.  
  
Unsure of what to do, - that’s what you get for following your random risky urges, after all! - Lucio lets himself smile:  
  
“See? I ain’t gonna do anything to harm you. I promise.”  
  
Sigma frowns slightly, his eyebrows knit together; this time he doesn’t look unhappy, just thoughtful. His eyes keep darting back to Lucio’s hand on his hospital robe covered shoulder. That’s a good thing, right? Acknowledging the contact and letting someone put a hand on him is the best progress they’ve made with him so far. Sigma hasn’t said a single coherent thing yet, but Lucio decides to hope he’d just come around eventually.  
  
The air cracks.  
  
It doesn’t sound like electricity, it just feels… weird, like pressure on his skin. Caught by surprise, Lucio flinches, trying to shake the odd feeling off. Instead, it only gets more intense, and quickly: something invisible tightens around Lucio’s chest and stomach, not enough to hurt, but enough to scare him. Lucio gasps.  
  
What _is_ this? He tries to struggle, but the grip on him only grows stronger. Suddenly frightened, he catches a glimpse of the look of concentration on Sigma’s face. He’s doing it, isn’t he? Has Lucio read the situation all wrong? Ow, ow, that’s… weird would be an understatement!  
  
Soldier 76 reacts first:  
  
“Back the hell down, you!..” He marches up to them, seemingly to either shove Sigma back or grab Lucio, and the strange feeling gets tighter, constricting, less… controlled for a second before loosening again. “Get the fuck away from him, kid!”  
  
It’s not _helping_.  
  
“Don’t shoot!” Lucio yelps, feeling his whole body jerk towards Sigma.  
  
He’s frightened, yes, but this doesn’t need to spring into violence. It’s the way Sigma looks at him that gets him: he doesn’t look like he’s aiming to harm, and what he’s doing… it’s not painful, just uncomfortable. Lucio sure hopes he got that memo right because otherwise he’d be getting smashed pretty soon, but he doubts Soldier’s beloved gun would do much good against Sigma’s powers anyway, so that leaves him out of options.

A benefit of a doubt, huh? Kindness _is_ a risk worth taking.  
  
The strange force, - _gravity_ , it must be what man-controlled gravity must feel like, - that seems to radiate from Sigma, pulls Lucio in, bringing him closer until he struggles not to collapse on top of Sigma, and them lessens one more time. Before Lucio knows it, Sigma suddenly scoops him into his arms.  
  
Lucio is placed on his lap like he weighs nothing, and then the weight around his chest returns, except this time it’s real and _warm_ and he’s struck with the realisation that Sigma’s hugging him, firm but gentle, holding him close.  
  
Oh. Alright. Was _a hug_ what this was about?  
  
Lucio’s still tense, but that’s clearly the end-goal. Sigma doesn’t hurt him, doesn’t try anything funny… or anything, for that matter. Just sits there, his arms around Lucio like he’s holding onto a comfort blanket; they’re so close Lucio can feel his own healing beat rhythmically rise and fall in the headset. Sigma’s breathing levels out, and when Lucio turns his head slightly, he finds that his eyes are closed. It feels… kinda nice. No, really. Cosy. Definitely much nicer than getting maimed, thank you very much.  
  
Even Soldier 76 seems somewhat dumbfounded.  
  
“I’m fine!” Best to reassure him before he comes up to some crazy rescue attempt that would definitely involve someone getting shot. Lucio would _hate_ for someone to get hurt now. They were just figuring it out! “Oh man. I didn’t expect _that_. Gotta admit, it was a bit of a jump-scare.”  
  
“Do you want me to… get him to release you?” Soldier asks, somewhat awkwardly, after a pause. He’s out of his depth. Nothing to shoot here, Lucio thinks with a hint of amusement.  
  
“Nah.” He’s really fine with it. Sure, he’s never been used as a cuddly plush toy (a stuffed frog, huh?) by a victim of crazy gravity-harnessing experiments, but there’s a first time for everything. “We just got him to chill out a little. I don’t have the heart to ruin it, y’know?”  
  
Lucio reaches out again, tracking every reaction, and hugs Sigma back. Okay. That gets him a weak noise that can be distantly interpreted as content. Nothing wrong with that.  
  
“There you go, big guy. Music isn’t all bad…” Lucio knows he’s babbling to someone who cannot hear him, but it doesn’t matter. Listening to his own voice works wonders for his own peace of mind. Admittingly, he’s still a bit shaken. “In fact, some music’s the _best_ thing ever. I live for it.”  
  
He slowly strokes up and down Sigma’s back, at least where he can reach, and his own body starts to relax, too. You would've thought he’d be uncomfortable, but instead, Lucio feels… happy. Yeah. It’s a pretty satisfying feeling, knowing you were able to help after days of hopeless struggle.  
  
While he’s at it, Doctor Ziegler and Soldier 76 fall back to the same stale argument. Lucio can hear their voices above him, half-hushed but agitated:  
  
“I really don’t appreciate you pointing a gun at my patients, Ja--Soldier!”  
  
“What you think of as patients, Moira calls _subjects_. Who knows what he could do!”  
  
Angela responds something in the angry, scandalised tone, but Lucio loses interest real quick. He’s sure Soldier would warm up to their new resident eventually: he’s not a bad guy, just a little uptight. He did warm up to everyone else on the base, after all. Lucio admits he got kinda used to his ridiculous fatherly attitude. Soldier will let the matter go eventually, when he’s convinced Sigma poses no danger to the people he’s sworn to protect.  
  
Which, of course, is kinda uncertain at the moment. Talon never gives up on an asset just like that. Sigma might turn up to be a sleeping agent, like that Amelie nobody wants to talk about, or he might fall back into the destructive frenzy and hurt someone, or, or…  
  
Lucio refuses to deal with these possibilities now. Gotta take a rare moment of peace while you can. He shifts slightly in the tight embrace - figures he’d be here for a while, might as well get comfy, - and murmurs again:  
  
“Music’s not so bad at all. Doesn’t _have_ to hurt, yeah?”  
  
There’s no response, but Sigma’s rocks slightly, repetitive and comforting, and Lucio doesn’t need to hear the tune to know the moves follow the rhythm set by his healing beat. 


End file.
